Jeremy flushed with resentment, glared at her, then suffered a pang of remorse. "I've been unkind to you and I'm sorry." He leaned toward her, and her appeal was stronger than ever. "Janine, I can't marry you. I can't marry anyone. I have no money, no tangible prospects of earning a living, and I'm a fugitive from the law."
Somewhat mollified, she averted her gaze, and the fingers of her left hand played with the hem of her short skirt. "Thank you for explaining," she murmured, then dropped her voice to a whisper. "You—you've never told me that you love me."
"I'm in no position to declare my feelings, Janine." He let his hand drop over hers.
"No! Please!" She drew away from him, and though her gaze was lowered he could see deep hurt in her eyes. ''I—I am not just—one of your women, Jeremy."
Sucking in his breath, he stared at her. Janine was as forthright as she was courageous, as frank as she was sweet, as honest as she was beautiful. The better Jeremy knew her, the more aware he became that here was a girl of rare stature, that he had never placed a sufficiently high value on her worth. The young gunsmith's heart beat faster, and he reacted instinctively.
He reached out for her, but she twisted out of his grasp, stood up, and moved to the far side of the patch of green. Not looking in his direction, she stretched out on the grass, reached into her skirt top, and removed the tiny poniard. She drew it from its sheath and stuck it into the ground, then turned her back to Jeremy. The weapon stood in the ground, shimmering in the tropical sunlight.
The journey was resumed again at dusk, and four weary hours later the two young people saw the Bay of Jamaica shining dully directly ahead of them. Mosquitoes buzzed around them, and somewhere in the distance a giant frog croaked dismally. The countryside looked forbidding and deserted; there was no moon and the water appeared black and cold. In the distance the drums of the Maroons throbbed, relaying messages on the progress of the battle, but if there was still musket fire, neither Jeremy nor Janine could hear it.
The young gunsmith moved close to a giant gwango tree near the shore line and addressed his companion for the first time in several hours. "I want you to remain here, Janine. Wait for me."
He would have started off along the shore line, but she put a detaining hand on his arm. "I'm not afraid to stay here, but don't you think I have a right to know where you're going— and why? I'm not a child, Jeremy."
"It would take too long to walk around the bay and approach Port Royal from the Palisadoes," he replied evenly. "We'd be another two days reaching the town. So I intend to borrow a boat. According to these maps, there's a little fishing village called Kingston on this side of the bay, and we can cross in a fairly short time—provided I can find a little craft, that is."
"I think you'd better take me with you, then," she said, and although her face was obscured he could feel the eagerness in her voice. "When you were taken to the Maroon country we passed Kingston Village. I think I'll recognize the shore line when we come to it, and you'll have difficulty finding the place, as it is completely hidden by trees.'*
"All right. I was trying to spare you, just in case the fisher-folk object to the loss, even the temporary loss, of one of their boats. But— Oh, come on."
He started off toward the east, and Janine quietly fell in behind him. Occasionally rocks jutted out into the water, and here and there patches of gray or black sand formed miniature beaches, behind which the jungle made a solid wall which seemed to seal off the island from the bay. It was easier walking along the shore despite a thick carpet of pebbles and small rocks, and they covered a distance of two miles in about thirty minutes.
Then Janine whispered a warning, and they proceeded slowly, cautiously, for approximately one hundred yards. Suddenly they came upon a small, curved inlet which was not visible from the bay and which the girl had consequently not seen when the Maroons, Michael and Gabriel, had paddled past the spot. The little fishing community lay on the other side of a fringe of trees, and they could dimly make out the outlines of a row of small huts.
A small fleet of boats bobbed up and down in the placid waters of the inlet, and Jeremy, scanning them hurriedly, suddenly spotted a clumsy but serviceable dugout canoe. Perhaps ten feet in length, the boat had been fashioned from a tree trunk, and lashed to her prow was a double-paddled oar.
The young gunsmith motioned to Janine; she obeyed at once, slipping off her sandals and wading to the boat through the chilly water. Meanwhile Jeremy tried to untie the rope that held the canoe. It was fastened securely around a small tree and the knot was a complicated one. Fearing discovery, he drew his sword, slashed the bond, and followed Janine into the boat. After cutting the oar loose, he dug the blade cautiously into the water, and the craft leaped forward. Again he wielded the oar, and again the canoe responded. In a few seconds they were out of the inlet and in the open water of the bay. To the south and west lay Port Royal.
Neither spoke for several minutes, and Jeremy bent to his task with a vigor he had been far from feeling only a few minutes before. They were on the last lap of the journey now, and it was a blessed relief to be sitting, even in so primitive a boat. Janine apparently felt better, too, and she sat erect, her legs crossed comfortably beneath her. Together they had achieved the improbable and had crossed miles of hostile country without injury. Jeremy was proud of her, proud of himself, and for the first time in many days he felt happy, almost carefree.
"Janine," he called softly, "I'm going to try to land on the back side of the town if I can find it. There are a few fishing wharves there, and it'll be a blame sight safer than paddling in under the guns of the Citadel." He chuckled, then added, "I don't think I'd qualify as a member of your father's crew, but I think I can sail this great frigate into Port Royal in two hours, more or less. We should be there by daybreak."
"It's hard to believe." Her voice was cheerful but hoarse from fatigue. "Will you give me a chance to freshen up somewhere before we go to the Duchess, Jeremy?"
Instead of answering he plunged the oar into the water and pulled savagely. "You are not coming with me to the Duchess," he declared at last, and his tone was adamant. "I shall see her alone, and that's final. I'll brook no argument. I'm taking you to Reverend Pennywell's house, and if they'll take you in, you'll stay there."
"Esther Mary's house?" She was outraged. "I will not "
'*You'll damned well do what you're told from now on," he snapped. "I'm tired of your conditions and your objections. From this moment forward you'll obey my orders!"
Chapter Fifteen
ALL WAS quiet in the vicinity of King's House, and no lights showed in the governor general's palace as the two fugitives hurried through Port Royal. The sight of taverns and private homes, shops and government offices, many equipped with glass windowpanes, was strange and slightly wonderful to the couple who had been so long in the primitive Maroon country. But they did not pause, as dawn was already breaking and their safety depended on their ability to avoid recognition. Their unorthodox, travel-stained clothes would call attention to them, and they had to be off the streets before the town awoke.
As they neared the High Street they heard several pistol shots, followed by loud curses and the unmistakable noises of a brawl. Hurrying on, they soon discovered that the clamor increased in the neighborhood of Queen Street, and at Jeremy's insistence, despite the loss of precious minutes, they avoided main thoroughfares and followed back lanes and alleys that led in the general direction of Half Moon Beach and the Citadel. Twice they lost their way, then found it again, and at last the huge stone towers of the great fortress loomed up ahead. Now Jeremy knew where he was, and in a few minutes he successfully guided his companion to the little street two squares from the waterfront.